


Balancing the Scales

by passing-fanciful (kageygirl)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageygirl/pseuds/passing-fanciful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Underworld's Storybrooke, everything and yet nothing is the same, and it's taking everything Emma has to keep it together.</p>
<p>Spoilers for 5.13, "Labor of Love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balancing the Scales

With the loft trashed by the baddest dog ever, and Cora-only-knows what kind of unpleasant surprises waiting at Regina's house, they end up back at Granny's again, waiting for Robin and Henry. Aside from the creepy witch who's reappeared behind the counter and keeps trying to send unordered food to their table, it's so bizarrely normal that Emma might've found herself looking up every time the bell jingled, waiting for Killian to slip through the door.

Except that his hook weighs heavy in her pocket, dragging her jacket down on one side. Almost as off-kilter as she herself feels without him beside her. When the third order of onion rings shows up, she mutters an excuse and all but bolts to the bathroom, locking herself inside before a dry sob wracks her body, and she has to curl her fingers around the hard porcelain edge of the sink to keep herself upright.

_Not the time, Emma. Not the fucking time, so **get your shit together**._

She sucks in a shuddering breath, then another, and turns on the tap to splash some water on her face. When she reaches for the paper towels, her jacket meets the sink with a dull clunk, and she freezes mid-motion.

Then she slides a still-wet hand into her pocket, and pulls out his hook.

It's tacky with blood--his blood, the blood she saw all over his face ( _not the fucking time, Emma_ ). Its gleam is all but obscured by the gory film, and she abruptly can't stand it. The hand soap at Granny's isn't all that robust, but Emma works hard until the water swirling down the drain is no longer tinged with crimson, her fingers instead ruddy from work. 

She ignores the cold seeping through her jeans where she rests her hip against the sink, polishing his hook dry with an increasingly tattered paper towel, but raises her head at the tentative knock. "Mom?"

She blinks, not sure exactly how long she's been in here. The doorknob feels odd under her fingers as she twists it open--rounded and metal, but no sharp points to it. "Hey, kid."

Henry looks so grown-up, standing in the doorway with concern written across his face. The furrow between his eyebrows deepens when he looks down at her hands, and he steps inside, pulling the door shut behind him. 

"We're gonna get him back, you know," he says, calm and confident.

"I know." Her hands have gone back to work without her orders, trying to wipe away any traces of--of whatever made him bleed like that. "I just--" With an effort, she makes herself stop, though she can't keep from gripping his hook tight, like she can bring him right back to her if she wants it badly enough. "I know that we can't go back to the way things were, we can't undo everything that happened, but--"

There's a sudden solemnity in Henry's big brown eyes. "But you have to do whatever you can. To make things right."

"Yeah." She slings an arm around her kid's shoulders, drawing him close. He's tense for a second--probably thinks he's getting too old for mom affection or something--but then he relaxes.

"Grandma told me what happened," he says, looking down at her white knuckles. "You know why Hades gave you his hook like that, right?"

"To rub it in my face that I haven't been able to save him," she says, anger and fear working together to close her throat on the words. 

" _Yet_ ," says her not-so-little-anymore optimist. "But that's not it. You need to read more, Mom." 

She shakes her head at the complete non sequitur. "Not really a good time for book club, kid."

He nudges her with his shoulder. "Hades gave you his hook to throw you off your game." He steps away to look her in the eye--god, he's so tall now. "He's _scared_ of you, Mom. Scared that you're going to beat him." He grins, suddenly, that grin that's proud and a little smug. "Which he should be, 'cause you are."

"You really think so?" 

He shrugs, still grinning. "Hey, us Authors know about storytelling."

It doesn't matter that he's utterly transparent about trying to cheer her up, because it works anyway. She balls up her shredded paper towel and drops it in the trash. "Your grammar seems a little shaky, though. I should have a word with your teacher."

"You should," he says, nodding his head toward the door, and the diner beyond. "She saved you a slice of pie."

She takes a deep breath, then opens the door, gesturing him out before her. "Should we really be eating anything made by the Hansel & Gretel witch?"

"Sure," Henry says, all but bouncing on his toes, telegraphing that he's about to make a terrible joke. "Just--stay out of the kitchen."

She rolls her eyes and thumps the back of his shoulder, following more slowly as he all but bounds to their table in the front corner. She slips the hook back into her pocket, letting her thumb drag gently over the point before pulling her hand free.

She reaches instead for the map Meg gave them of the underground tunnels, because it's past time to get that hook back to its owner.

Ruining Hades's day in the process is just icing on the cake.


End file.
